The Louisiana Vampire Murders
by alh1971
Summary: Sookie Stackhouse is a forensic psychologist hired to evaluate business mogul Eric Northman, who is accused of being a serial killer. AU, OOC, Rated M for mature content.
1. Chapter 1

_AN: Yeah, yeah, I know. Another multific WIP! Sorry, but this plot bunny has been hopping up and down and won't leave me alone, so putting it on paper is catharsis…I doubt if this story will generate much of a fan base, but I am really writing it for my own amusement if nothing else (in spite of the dark content). Hopefully a few of you out there will find it entertaining as well... _

_…_

_…_

"Freeze! Place your hands on top of your head and kneel on the ground!"

Eric blinked rapidly and shook his head. He was dazed, unsure of his surroundings. He looked down at his hands, which were covered in blood. Slowly, he raised his head and stared at the scene in the bedroom. What he saw made him scream. He continued to scream as the policemen wrestled him to the ground and cuffed him. By the time they placed him in the patrol car and Mirandized him, he had stopped screaming though his shoulders shook with silent sobs.

…

…

_Three weeks later…_

"Dr. Stackhouse, this is Stan Davis. Thank you for returning my call. I assume you got my message?"

Sookie sighed. "Yes, I did, but I'm afraid I am reluctant to take on such a high profile case, Stan. The media frenzy surrounding the murders and long hours that I would be spending in and out of the courtroom are not…appealing to me."

She had recognized the signs of burn out years ago but kept soldiering on despite her weariness and dislike of the job. She was actually thinning out her private practice appointments and was primarily focusing on her contractual obligations to the Louisiana Department of Corrections, doing routine psychological intakes on parolees. The contract was actually due to expire soon but she doubted she would sign on for a renewal. She needed an extended vacation. Badly.

Stan continued. "I understand. But you're the best forensic psychologist in the state of Louisiana, if not in the country, particularly when it comes to violent sexual predators. And you're one of the few with neuropsychological training. We'd be willing to double your typical IME rates."

Sookie paused. Holy shit! Her Independent Medical Examination rates were already at the high end of the spectrum to begin with. The Orleans Parish DA was pulling out the big bucks for this one.

"Well, let's say I agree to take on the case. Who's the defense attorney representing Mr. Northman?"

There was a pause on the line. "Pamela Ravenscroft."

Sookie smiled to herself. Pamela Ravenscroft was a well-known criminal attorney who had won several high profile cases, including one in which she represented a Texas politician who had been accused of murdering his wife and children. He had been acquitted despite overwhelming evidence of his guilt, including eyewitness testimony and DNA evidence. If Eric Northman had retained Ravenscroft, then he had a damned good chance of winning. But he would have to pay dearly for his freedom. She didn't work cheap.

"Hmm. Well, no wonder you're willing to pay out the wazoo. Say hypothetically I agree to take this on. What will the contract entail?"

"A full neuropsychological evaluation as well personality assessment."

That caught Sookie's interest. "Neuropsych? Why? I doubt if there is a question of low intellectual functioning or brain damage…I mean, after all, he is a relatively young man and the head of a huge business empire. Unless there's something I don't know?"

"Well, first of all, the judge has denied bail pending the outcome of the psych assessment. And even then it's iffy, and it will be high, though we all know Northman can pay it. Also, Northman told police investigators that he had no memory of events of the night in question when he was apprehended at the victim's home. He's also denying any knowledge of assaulting the other victims though he has been linked through various sources to them all, either through his businesses or social circles."

"Ah, I see. Yes, a full neuropsychological evaluation would be appropriate. I will be sure to include malingering measures in my assessment, since there are certainly secondary gain incentives for him to be lying."

She could almost hear the attorney smiling on the line. "So you're in then?" Sookie rolled her eyes and shook her head.

"Yes. But I'm holding you to your offer. Double my usual IME rate."

"Wonderful! We will Fed Ex your contract over to your office. As soon as we get it back, I'll have my assistant bring over the files."

"You do know that the defense is going to hire their own psychologist? I have a hunch who it might be." Bill Compton was a forensic psychologist based out of Baton Rouge who had a lucrative practice but was not well liked by his peers. He was deemed unethical, the psychologist's analog to a whore, whose "expert opinion" could be swayed for the right price.

She heard Davis take a deep breath. "Compton. Yes, rumor has it that Ravenscroft has already made him an offer to take on the case."

"Well, you know damn good and well he's chomping at the bit and has already signed on board. He'll eat up the publicity the case will bring him. He's a narcissist and I guarantee he will try to discredit me on the stand. We're not exactly friendly with each other and have gone head to head before in court, you know."

"Yes, well, he doesn't stand a chance against you. He hasn't ever discredited you, to my knowledge, and in fact, I remember how you spanked him down and made him look like a blubbering idiot at the Bellefleur trial."

"All the more reason for me to be especially on my toes with this case. And FYI, I will be doing all of the psych testing myself. It's too important to have minor errors committed by my graduate level psychometrists…You know, by the time I'm done, this is going to be a very expensive case for the state."

"You're worth it."

"Yes, well…let's just say that I plan on taking a long vacation once the trial is over."

Davis laughed. "You'll deserve it! Someplace exotic, right?"

"You bet…Okay, Stan, you've got your hired gun. I'll be waiting for the contract and I'll get it back to you asap."

"Thanks a lot Dr. Stackhouse. Talk to you soon."

Sookie hung up the phone and turned in her leather chair to stare out her office window. She had a pleasant view of the office park courtyard. The late afternoon sun lit up the trees and landscaping in a warm amber glow. She enjoyed the scenery until she thought about the ordeal she just agreed to subject herself to. She rubbed her temples. A headache was starting to flirt with her, likely stress induced.

She had followed the case in the newspaper with detached interest since it had been the center of the local news media's attention. She knew that Eric Northman was a business mogul who had initially made his millions though speculating in semiconductor and emerging technology research. He also had his fingers in oil and mining operations, as well as ownership of several retail and restaurant chains. To say that he had limitless funds at his disposal was an understatement. He was going to need his riches to hire the very best to save his ass given the nature of the crimes…

A series of brutal sexual assault murders had plagued New Orleans for the past several months. All the sexual assault victims were young women, usually blonde. Some had been mutilated but all had been exsanguinated, which the media had had a field day with, dubbing the crimes as the "Louisiana Vampire Murders."

In addition to the female victims, there were also other people murdered, including a husband, parents, and children who were unlucky enough to be at the various scenes at the time. Police believed that these victims were collateral damage: obstacles to be disposed of so that the murderer could focus on his true target. None of the "incidental" victims had been reported to be sexually assaulted; only the young women.

All in all, a very messy, high profile case. And now, an interesting twist was Northman's "amnesia" on the nights the crimes occurred.

She turned from the window back to her desk. She Googled "Eric Northman," which yielded over ten million hits. She clicked on the "News" link and scrolled through a few articles, which primarily focused on the salacious details of the crimes and his background as fallen New Orleans mogul. It was all information she had either heard or read before. She then clicked on the "Images" option and looked at different pictures of him, in both formal wear and business casual (often seen sporting his cowboy boots). There were also multiple frames of his infamous mug shot, which showed him with blood shot eyes and beard stubble on his handsome face.

She shook her head. It was always a surprise to see a cold blooded killer peering out from behind a beautiful façade. And how could such a brilliant mind be so savage? True, there was a chance that the man was innocent, but based on the media leaks, the evidence against him seemed pretty damning, especially since he had no reported alibi.

Regardless of his guilt, or whether her findings could be used in favor of the state's case or not, she would report the truth as she saw it. That was one reason why a straight shooter such as Stan Davis sought her out: not only was she good at what she did, she also wouldn't lie. No matter her findings, it sounded like Stan was banking on having an ironclad case against Northman anyway.

She closed out her Internet browser and sat back in her chair. It was five pm. Relatively early for her to close shop for the day, especially since she had several reports to finish up and a stack of files she needed to double-check. Although her two graduate student interns were pretty sharp, she still caught occasional scoring mistakes on the various psychological tests.

She smiled ruefully when she thought of her two interns. Both of them, Jessica and Hoyt, were full of energy and enthusiasm for the field. Not bitter, jaded, and burned out at age 35 like herself.

She had attended state college at age 17 on scholarship and earned her doctorate in clinical psychology by the age of 26. She then moved to New Orleans, where she completed a two-year forensic psychology residency, which also had a heavy emphasis on neuropsychology.

She had never wanted to stay in New Orleans, but she made strong professional contacts during her residency and the job market was booming. Despite her success, she desperately wanted to return home to Bon Temps, where her Gran still lived. Adele Stackhouse was in her late 70's and while she was still spry, she was getting frail and beginning to have more health issues. Although Jason lived in Shreveport, which wasn't far from Bon Temps, he didn't visit Gran often due to his long work hours. Granted, New Orleans wasn't that far away, but she hated that she couldn't get to her grandmother immediately in an emergency situation. And…she just plain missed her.

Maybe this case was a sign for her to move closer to Bon Temps. Maybe she should just let her contract with the Department of Corrections run out and move her practice. Yes. She would make some much-needed changes in her life. After this case, she would turn her life around. Maybe she'd change fields, get out of forensic psychology and start doing individual counseling. Or hell, maybe she'd take some art classes at the community college and pursue her long buried dream of being an artist.

She turned off her computer and stuffed some files into her briefcase (the ones whose reports were the most pressing) and headed out of her office, not before turning one last time and looking wistfully at her diplomas on the wall. It was funny how proud she was at one time to receive them! Funny to think about how hard she worked, how she had a burning fire in her belly at one time in her life. Funny how those framed pieces of paper didn't mean shit to her anymore…

She sighed while she cut off the light and locked the door.

_AN: If any of you readers are attorneys or have legal expertise and catch factual mistakes in my story, please let me know! _


	2. Chapter 2

_AN: Obviously, this is a work of fiction, so although I'm trying to portray things realistically, I am also taking creative liberties with how this scenario would really go down. Also, in an attempt to "keep it real" there is a lot of psychobabble jargon, but hopefully it makes sense within the context of the story._

_Thanks for all the reviews on the first chapter! I appreciate the feedback. _

…

…

Looking up at the early morning sunlight beaming merrily upon the imposing facade of the Orleans Parish Prison, Sookie couldn't help but shake her head at the visual dichotomy the scene created. She took several deep breaths to lower her heart rate. No matter how often she visited jail inmates, she tended to experience anxiety before and during her visits. The inescapable nature of a correctional facility, no matter how new or "progressive," engendered a hopeless and claustrophobic climate. Always.

To make matters worse, it was likely she would not be able to finish Mr. Northman's evaluation in one day given the extensive testing requested by the court, which meant she would no doubt be coming back. Ugh.

She popped open the trunk of her Volvo XC-90 and took out a rolling cart. She began stoically loading her psychological test kits and briefcase on it and then secured it all with a bungee cord before locking up her car.

She rolled the cart behind her and trudged up the walkway to the front entrance. Glancing up at the sun wistfully one last time before she entered through the glass doors, she sighed and immediately regretted it when the strong smell of antiseptic cleanser and musty air vents assailed her.

A humorless looking female corrections officer was sitting at the front desk. She was heavy set, and her poorly dyed hair was pulled back into a severe knot at the back of her head.

"Hi there. I'm Dr. Stackhouse." She put on her no-nonsense business persona. Being a petite blonde woman required such a demeanor so that people (including other women) would take her seriously.

The woman nodded. "Yeah, the DA had called and said you'd be coming today. Psych evaluation on Eric Northman, right?

Sookie nodded.

"Here's your visitor pass. I'll call ahead and let them know to bring him down to one of the interview rooms. He's on the 4th floor Ad Seg so it may take a while to get him."

Sookie frowned. "Ad Seg? Has he been violent?"

The guard shook her head. "Nope, not that I'm aware of. I heard he's been a model prisoner. It's more to protect him from the rest of the inmates. You know, since he's a child killer." She shook her head. "Prison code don't care if you rape and kill women but they care if kids are hurt. Plus, everyone's heard how rich he is. That alone makes him a target."

Sookie nodded and kept silent since she didn't want to comment about the case with anyone except the DA or the judge. She took the pass, which she clipped to the lapel of her suit jacket. She winced internally, knowing it was going to leave a mark in the fabric but she never wore a lanyard to clip badges on in a jail setting, since it could be used as a garrote. You had to think of these things when working with criminals. Even something as innocuous as a pencil could be lethal…and Northman was accused of the most violent and serious of crimes. She would have to be especially vigilant today.

The woman pressed a button that allowed her to enter further into the facility. The door clanged behind her as she made her way inside. She walked over to a glass enclosed station where two corrections officers sat watching video monitors. One, a twenty-something man with a short military haircut, spoke to her through the intercom.

"You the psychologist here to the eval on Northman?"

"Yes."

"All right, I'll buzz you in." Sookie walked in and handed the jailor her keys, which he put in a small plastic bin.

"We'll put you in the interview room directly across from our station. If you have any hint of threat from him, please leave the room immediately and call out. We'll be watching closely and can get to you asap."

"She knows the drill, J.B. Dr. Stackhouse is an old pro, isn't that right?"

Sookie smiled at the other guard. "Hi Sam. Good to see you."

Ever since she had been coming here to do forensic evaluations, Sam had been friendly and helpful. She suspected he might have a little crush on her, but he had never worked up the courage to ask her out. She was relieved, actually. She hadn't dated in a while and it suited her fine since she did not have the emotional energy necessary to put into a romantic relationship. Yeah, she needed a vacation…

Sam grinned. "Always glad to see you too! I haven't seen you in a while…thought we'd run you off."

Sookie feigned insult. "What? And miss all the fun?"

"Yeah, zoos _are_ entertaining, aren't they?" he joked.

He walked up to her and put his hand on her shoulder. The smile melted off his face as he continued. "But in all seriousness, doc, be real careful with this one. You know why he's here. He's a bloodthirsty rapist killer. And you fit his victim profile, blonde and real pretty." He blushed for a minute before he hurriedly muttered, "No offense, Dr. Stackhouse."

"None taken. I doubt that there will be any behavioral concerns from him, especially since it's in his best interest to be cooperative. But I appreciate you guys keeping a close eye on me." She meant it. She had never had any overt physical aggression exhibited towards her. But…there was always the possibility of potential violence when doing these types of assessments. That fact she never forgot, and one that had motivated her years ago to pursue martial arts training.

The younger guard buzzed the heavy metal door open. As Sookie rolled her cart through, the door clanged after her. She nodded questioningly towards the closest interview room and Sam gave her the thumbs up.

She went into the small windowless cell (that's what it felt like to her), which held two battered wooden chairs, one on either side of a small table. She glanced down at it. Several initials were scratched into the surface, as well as a jagged "FUK U."

She rolled her cart to the right side of the room and leaned it against the wall. She undid the bungee cord and put it inside her briefcase. While waiting for her client to make an appearance, she pulled out a yellow legal pad, pen, and small digital recorder.

She didn't have to wait long. When she heard heavy footsteps echoing down the hall, she went to stand in front of the open door. She watched as two officers escorted a tall, muscular blonde man who was forced to shuffle due to the cuffs around his ankles. His hands were also cuffed in the front. He was wearing a bright orange jumpsuit and she briefly wondered how they were able to find one available in his size, but dismissed the thought as they approached.

Eric Northman had a grim expression on his face, although it didn't mar his beauty. He was even more handsome in person. He dwarfed the two corrections officers, who were both large men.

He appraised her coolly and didn't speak.

She took control immediately. "Mr. Northman, I am Dr. Sookie Stackhouse. I am the psychologist retained by the state to perform the forensic evaluation requested by Judge Beck. Are you agreeable to undergo this assessment?"

Eric looked at her for several seconds before he begrudgingly nodded.

Sookie had a hard time holding his gaze. His ice blue eyes were intelligent and perceptive. She mentally shook off the discomfort his stare produced. She was already letting him rattle her. She needed to keep the mental edge here and not allow him to have the upper hand.

Sookie turned to the guards. "This assessment is going to take several hours. I want to make sure that Mr. Northman is provided lunch."

One of the men nodded. "Yeah, we can bring him a sack lunch."

"That will be fine. I brought mine as well. In the interest of time, we can both eat in the exam room. If that is acceptable, Mr. Northman? Or would you prefer to eat in the jail cafeteria?"

Her courtesy to him was rewarded with a terse response. "Eating here is fine. Thank you for asking and thinking of my needs, Dr. Stackhouse." He sounded sarcastic.

One of the guards snorted. "Well, Northman, you make sure to be on your best behavior. We're watching you."

"He's going to need his hands free during the assessment."

The guard raised his eyebrows but didn't argue as he unlocked the handcuffs.

Sookie gestured for Eric to enter the room and indicated that he should sit with his back facing the wall. He sat slowly and looked at her as she closed the door (leaving it open a crack, enough to muffle noise outside but still allow her to open it easily). She lowered herself to the chair and grabbed her notepad and pen.

"You're smart." His deep baritone startled her.

She looked up at his smirking face. "What makes you say that?'

"You had me sit with my back against the wall and gave yourself access to the door in case you needed a quick getaway."

Sookie looked at him with a blank expression on her face though her pulse quickened.

"It's interesting you would comment on that, Mr. Northman. Any reason why I might be needing a "quick getaway" during the evaluation?"

He shook his head but kept the smirk. "No. Not on my account."

She could feel her heart pounding. "Fuck this," she thought to herself. "This cat and mouse banter ends now."

She addressed him in a terse, no bullshit manner. "That's good to hear. Now, before we begin, I want to inform you that your attorney has requested I record the assessment."

"Yes. Ms. Ravenscroft told me and I am fine with it."

Sookie nodded and pressed play on the recorder, which she placed on the table between them.

"This is doctor Sookie Stackhouse. I am beginning the court-ordered forensic evaluation with Eric Northman. I first want to go over the limits of confidentiality and terms of the evaluation with you. Typical patient-doctor confidentiality does not apply in this case. Since Judge Beck ordered this assessment and the state is paying for it, they are technically my clients in his situation. So, the results of the assessment, my report, and everything you say to me can be disclosed to them. Please keep this in mind. Copies of the report will be supplied to the court, the prosecutor, and your attorney. I am not interested in hearing about the details of the crimes you are alleged to have committed with the exception of how it pertains to your reported memory deficits. Any questions?" She pushed the informed consent and limits of confidentiality forms towards him and gave him a pen.

He picked up the pen and looked up at her. His eyes hardened. "No, no questions. But off the record, I have absolutely no recollection of any of the atrocities they accuse me of. I would never do something like that…I am not a violent man. It is totally against my character to harm women, or God forbid, children."

Sookie returned his stare. "My role in this case is not to determine your guilt or innocence. In fact, I have not yet reviewed the case records the DA sent me, since I want to stay as free from bias as possible during the evaluation. As I mentioned before, anything you tell me here is potentially "on the record."

They stared at each other for several seconds. His pale blue eyes, so alike to hers, seemed to be challenging her. It was as if he was assessing her character, trying to figure her out. Finally, he nodded once, indicating his understanding.

For the next hour, as Sookie interviewed Eric Northman, she inadvertently found herself becoming more fascinated by him. And aside from his initial surly demeanor and hints of narcissism, she found no blatant evidence of personality disorder or psychopathy.

His parents were immigrants from Stockholm, Sweden and he was born in San Francisco. His father was an imminent cardiac surgeon and researcher at UCSF and mother was a concert pianist. He reported a close relationship with both parents, as well as his two siblings. He denied any history of physical or emotional abuse. He described himself as a fast learner, and much like herself, graduated early from high school and received a full scholarship to UC Berkley, where he was a computer engineering major. He obtained his MBA at Harvard and ended up making his initial millions in technology development as a relatively young man before investing in other industries. He married his college sweetheart but the marriage dissolved when he discovered her infidelity. Since that time, he reported having two other serious relationships, but the most recent one ended approximately three years ago. He had no children, which was something he said he regretted. He denied any history of head injury or psychiatric issues. He reported excellent health and no issues with substance abuse. He reportedly only drank on rare occasions since his brother had struggled with alcoholism.

As far as his memory lapses, he stated that he had near perfect recall up until the past few months, during which time he had experienced several "blackouts." There were no identifiable precipitating factors or auras prior to the amnestic events. The only pattern he noticed was that the lapses all occurred at night when he was alone. He would be doing mundane activities, such as eating dinner or working and then the next thing he knew he would "wake up" in various locations around his home, including his bathtub, car, and back porch. He had no recollection of how he got there or what had transpired. The time span of the blackouts varied but sometimes lasted for several hours. He didn't recall the specific dates on which the incidents occurred, with the exception of the night he was apprehended (which was the only time he had found himself in an unfamiliar location). But he did volunteer that the incidents had started around the time the rape-murders began getting press.

So all in all, a privileged, near spotless background with no hints of darkness within...up until the nights of the murders, that is. He appeared to be forthcoming and did not come across as deceitful. It seemed as if he truly believed what he was telling her. However, Sookie knew that beneath "honest" and calm surfaces, monsters could lurk in the darkness. Plus, repression and denial were powerful defense mechanisms, especially in cases where someone had engaged in ego dystonic behaviors (such as rape and murder, in his case).

After the interview, she began the neuropsychological portion of the evaluation. He flew through the tests without difficulty, including the malingering measures. At lunchtime, Sookie stopped the recorder and stood. She gestured to the officers in the guard booth. She needed a bathroom break and she assumed that her client did as well.

Sam came and escorted Eric while she was buzzed back out into the visitor area. She used the facilities and washed her hands in the utilitarian sink. She looked at herself in the mirror, having a surreal moment as she pictured herself straddling Eric, her head thrown back in ecstasy as he thrust into her. Her breath hitched in her throat. Oh shit…Okay, she realized she was intensely attracted to her client. Countertransference. Yes, she recognized it for what it was, but she shook her head and admonished herself nonetheless. He was a _client._ A client accused of heinous crimes. Atrocities. And here she was, having sexual fantasies in the jail restroom! Well, regardless of her attraction to him or his guilt or innocence, she was here to do her job, and that was to provide a sound, objective, forensic evaluation. She glared at herself in the mirror as she adjusted her suit.

She walked out back towards the booth and raised her hand, waving to the guards, who buzzed her back in. As they prepared to admit her through the second door, Sam spoke to her through the intercom. "You sure you want to have lunch in there with that scumbag, Dr. Stackhouse? You can come eat with us if you'd like."

Sookie smiled. "It's okay, Sam. I'm actually planning on having him work on a personality test, so we'll be staying busy through lunch."

He raised his eyebrow at her questioningly.

"No, really Sam. It's okay. And Mr. Northman is agreeable to the arrangement."

Sam sighed and shook his head reprovingly but released the lock on the door to let her in the corridor. Eric was already waiting for her in the Spartan room, a sack lunch in front of him, which consisted of a sandwich (on white bread she noted), apple, bag of chips, and soda. The guard who was standing outside the room nodded to her as she went in and closed the door. She smiled to herself when she saw Eric looking down at his lunch with a bemused expression.

He looked up at her and caught her smirk. He mock frowned at her. "Don't laugh. This is actually preferable to the "hot" lunch they typically serve here."

She chuckled. "I'm sorry, Mr. Northman. I wasn't making fun. I usually don't eat much of a lunch, so…" She shrugged as she pulled out a granola bar and bottle of water out of her briefcase.

He looked at her and shook his head. "Wow. You weren't kidding. I'd starve to death if that were all I ate. I'm hungry here all the time as it is."

"I usually eat just a yogurt for breakfast, something like this for lunch, if I eat at all. I eat a serious meal at dinner, though."

He smiled at her. "Serious. I always thought dinner should be enjoyable."

She smiled in return but sobered as she reminded herself of her reason for being there and the crimes he was accused of committing.

"I hope you don't mind, but I was thinking we could start on one of the measures while you eat? It's a true/false questionnaire. Is that ok?"

"Yes…you're giving me the MMPI?"

Sookie nodded. "Actually, the MMPI-2? Are you familiar with it?"

"I've heard of it."

"Ah, yes. Well, have you ever taken it before?"

"No. No reason to."

She began audiotaping again. "Well, the instructions are here on this booklet. Let me know if you have any questions." Sookie pushed the test and a pencil to him. He stared at her for a few moments. His eyes were so damned…piercing. When he scrutinized her as he was doing now, she felt vulnerable and naked. It made her uncomfortable but also was…exciting?

She averted her eyes and reached for her granola bar. She grabbed the WAIS-IV protocol so she could score the IQ test as she ate.

He was motionless for several seconds as he continued to watch her. Sookie was relieved when he began eating his lunch and filling out the questionnaire. They both worked silently for some time.

After about an hour (she was tracking the time on her watch and annotating it as she went for documentation purposes), she could feel his eyes on her once again but she refused to look up. Finally, she lifted her head and returned his gaze.

"Is there a problem Mr. Northman?"

He continued staring at her and pushed the completed test towards her. He reached over to the digital recorder and shut it off.

She looked at him with suspicion. "What are you doing?"

"Dr. Stackhouse. I have consented to this evaluation today because I recognize that despite my wealth I will likely spend the rest of my life behind bars. That is, if I don't get the death penalty. This is Louisiana, you know." He smiled weakly but it did not reach his eyes.

"My attorney is good. The best money can buy, but really, you're my only chance…"

There was a pregnant silence. She could literally hear the blood pumping in her ears given how fast her heart was beating.

"No, that is where you are wrong. As I told you, I am a neutral par-"

Without warning, he slammed his fists on the table. "That's bullshit and you know it! I'm no killer!"

Sookie startled and rose quickly, with the intention of backing out the door.

He lunged across the table and grabbed her wrist.

"No! Please don't leave…I'm sorry." His handsome features were distorted into a rictus of passionate remorse.

Sookie narrowed her eyes and hissed under her breath, "Let go of me immediately, Mr. Northman. If I call out, the guards will be here in a heartbeat. Don't give them an excuse to beat and cuff you."

She used an old trick she learned early on in her martial arts classes, twisting and pulling her wrist down against his thumb, which caused him to lose his grip.

He let out a groan and slumped back in his chair. He threw his head down on the table.

His voice broke as he muttered softly, "I apologize Dr. Stackhouse. I…can't stand this. I know I'm not capable of murder. I swear to God that I honestly do _not_ remember what the hell happened…it's like my mind has these holes in it. That night they arrested me…it was like I was coming out of a fog, like I'd been heavily drugged or something. I remember staying late at my office. I was catching up on some emails…and the next thing I know I'm in some stranger's apartment, with blood on my hands."

Sookie looked at him with a mixture of alarm…and pity?

"Mr. Northman. Please stop. I told you that we are not to-"

He continued as if he hadn't heard her. He lifted his head, his eyes bloodshot and tear-filled. "And oh God, that woman…her throat and eyes were torn out…her body was mutilated. I…" He hung his head in silence.

Sookie sat back down and allowed him to grieve. After a few minutes, he impatiently wiped the tears away with the heels of his hands and sighed.

"I look like a basket case now, huh? I suppose you'll report my behavior to the judge." He shook his head. "Deservedly so."

Sookie scrutinized him. Here was a man on the edge, whose former life was completely shattered. All his riches, education, good looks, and reputation were meaningless here in jail.

She cleared her throat. "I'll say that you became tearful during the evaluation but I will leave out the part where you grabbed my wrist…that's with the understanding that you do not do that again. I'll chalk it up once to emotional distress, but if it happens again I won't hesitate to call the guards and note in my report that you are impulsive and aggressive."

He gave her a weary nod and said, "Thanks. It won't happen again."

Sookie glanced at her watch. "Why don't we call it a day? We can finish up tomorrow." Since he had completed the cognitive tests so quickly (he was actually the fastest she had ever encountered), there actually wasn't that much of the assessment left to complete.

"All right. I'll be here and on time. I'm a captive audience, right?" He gave her a small, crooked smile that actually panged her heart.

She smiled back at him. "Yeah, right." She stood and gestured for him to stand.

He rose up to his full height and reached out his hand to hers.

"It was nice to meet you, Dr. Stackhouse. Thanks for being so understanding."

She hesitated for a second but then reached out and allowed her small hand to be engulfed by his. She immediately jumped from an electrical charge that shocked them both and hastily pulled her hand away.

"I'm going to call the guards to come get you, all right?" She turned quickly, her face flushing. She didn't want him to see the effect he had on her.

Sam saw her come to the door and immediately stepped out of the guard station, talking into a walkie-talkie as he approached.

"You okay Dr. Stackhouse?" He looked worried when he took in her harried expression.

"Yeah, Sam. Everything's fine. We're just finishing up early for the day. I will come back tomorrow to complete the last part of the evaluation."

Sam nodded his head and signaled to the guards who approached the exam room. Sookie stood to the side as they re-cuffed Eric.

He turned to her and softly said, "It was nice to meet you Dr. Stackhouse."

She nodded and held his heated gaze briefly before answering. "See you tomorrow Mr. Northman."

She turned and went back into the exam room to pack up as the guards escorted him back to his cell.

…

…

After she got home, she went straight to the bathroom, stripping down and stepping out of her suit, leaving it in a discarded heap on the floor. If she was able to, she always showered after a jail evaluation: a symbolic cleansing to wash away the sense that filth and doom were clinging to her. She cut the water on as hot as she could tolerate and hung her head under the spray while bracing both hands against the tile. As she let the hot water and steam do their magic, she reflected back on her strange day, focusing in on the handsome and strangely vulnerable inmate. There was something about him…

Suddenly, the thought occurred to her that Eric Northman could very well be innocent despite the damning evidence against him. It was gut instinct, just something she felt in her bones. Since she was a child, she had experienced precognitive flashes that often came true (such as in the case of her parents deaths). It had served her well as a psychologist, as she often had "insights" that were often on the mark. True, after all of her training, part of it was her knowledge of human behavior as well as her innate ability to empathize with others. But part of it was…something more? The empiricist in her snorted her disapproval while her spiritual side tapped her toe with her eyebrow raised.

With a herculean effort, she forced all thoughts of Eric Northman out of her mind. She finished her shower and dressed in her favorite old threadbare robe that Gran had given her years ago. She decided to stay in and relax given the high tension she had been under all day. She had a feeling she would need to be well rested for the second part of the evaluation tomorrow.

After rummaging in the kitchen for a few minutes, she decided to pour herself a glass of wine and make some microwave popcorn. She then went into the living room. She popped in one of her favorite movies into the dvd player (the 2002 version of "The Count of Monte Cristo") and settled into the couch for the rest of the afternoon. After quickly finishing her wine she lay down and pulled her old knit throw over her legs. Before she knew it, she fell asleep right after the part where Dantes discovers he has been betrayed by his "friend" Mondego.

_AN: Thanks for reading! _


	3. Chapter 3

_AN: The previous chapter was fairly realistic, but I will be taking __major__ creative liberties in this chapter with Sookie's actions…Gonna shake things up a little bit. :) If lemons offend, __**don't read**__. _

_Thanks to everyone who has reviewed. You are the cream in my coffee. _

_BTW, all my stories can now be found under the same penname on __**FictionPad**__. _

_Unbeta'd and quickly written, so please excuse any typos or grammatical errors._

…

…

Sookie couldn't see his face but she could make out the shadowy outline of his muscular frame in the room, which was lit solely by moonlight filtering through the window.

"Come here, Sookie." Eric's silky baritone caused chill bumps down her arms. His voice prohibited any refusal and drew her in.

She slowly walked towards him.

"Stop. Stop there."

She obeyed.

"Now, take off your dress."

She hesitated but complied, untying the side tie of her black wrap dress. She let it drop to the floor and stood in matching lace bra, thong, and stilettos. He had been specific about what he wanted...

She saw him stir in his seat as he inhaled shakily.

She stood still for several seconds, painfully aware of the sound of her hammering heartbeat in her ears.

He spoke low. "Turn around."

She turned.

"Take off your bra."

She reached behind her and undid the hooks, shimmying the straps off her arms. The bra dropped to the ground.

His voice hitched slightly as he continued. "Cross your ankles and bend over."

She paused. There was no going back now, was there? No more professional boundaries keeping them apart…

She crossed her legs at the ankles as she slowly bent down and grasped her shins. Her long hair reached the floor and obscured her view of him.

She heard the crisp sound of fabric moving on leather as he sat up in the chair. His breathing became noticeably heavier…and then…a soft thud. She began to turn her head but he called out, "Don't move."

She froze, the blood rushing to her head and to her groin, which throbbed heavily and dripped with thick moisture.

She gasped as he quickly pulled her wrists together, binding them roughly but expertly with her bra. He stayed behind her, out of her line of sight. She felt fingertips ghosting up her legs, starting at her ankles and lightly teasing up her thighs. They stopped on her ass, where they began to grasp and knead. She began to tremble and swayed, momentarily losing her balance but was stayed by a strong hand on her hip. He began massaging her ass again, pulling and pinching the skin and muscle. He stopped. Suddenly, she flinched, her lower body jerking as the delicate lingerie was ripped from her body. She continued to keep her head down but followed the arc of her panties with her eyes as he tossed them aside.

"Can I…can I straighten up now?" She whispered.

"No." His tone was steel covered in sticky sweet, dark chocolate.

She swallowed and took a deep breath, but maintained her bent over position.

"Good girl," he whispered. "Real good…In fact, so good I think you deserve a reward, don't you?'

She whimpered softly, a nonverbal assent.

"Yes, kitten. Close your eyes now."

She complied, closing her eyes as her body shuddered.

Without warning, his hands spread her ass as he stuck his tongue deep into her pussy. He began to alternate between holes, hungrily delving into her while keeping her cheeks spread wide. The vulnerability of her position while being subjected to his merciless tongue brought her to a sudden, jolting orgasm. She cried out as her knees buckled.

He steadied her, moving his hands on her legs, forcing her to uncross her ankles and spread her feet far apart. Satisfied with her position, he grunted to himself and then renewed his oral assault. After several relentless minutes, he paused and licked his lips. "Mmm, you taste so sweet. Sweet, sweet Sookie….Do you want me to fuck you now?"

Sookie nodded.

He pinched her nipples. Hard. "What's that, kitten? I didn't hear you."

"Yes, Eric. Oh God, please…," she gasped.

She felt the air move as he stood and unzipped his pants. In one fluid thrust, he impaled her on his cock, roughly shoving his large member into her channel.

She screamed in agonized pleasure.

…

…

Sookie bolted up on the couch, breathing heavily.

"Shit! Holy shit," she panted, heart pounding out of her chest. Disoriented, she glanced at the clock. Three a.m. Good Christ, she had fallen asleep on the couch while watching the movie. The dvd had reset back to the menu, and was playing music and clips from "The Count of Monte Cristo."

She sat up and noticed that her thighs were drenched with her arousal and had soaked through the back of her bathrobe. Her mouth felt dry, as if she had been chewing cotton for hours. She swung her legs over the side of the couch and half stumbled to the kitchen. She filled a glass with water from the fridge tap and gulped it down. Wiping her mouth, she went into the bathroom and hastily peed and brushed her teeth before falling down into bed. She rolled over and set the alarm for 6 a.m. She had to be at the jail in the morning to finish up the second half of Northman's forensic evaluation.

"That's the last time I drink wine on an empty stomach right after a jail eval," she muttered under her breath. Her thoughts returned to her client. Her mysterious, gorgeous client who now haunted her dreams…

She chastised herself. She was a professional. What the hell was wrong with her? Well, after she finished the evaluation and the court testimony, she'd never see him again.

For some reason, the thought distressed her.

She shook her head, disgusted with herself. "Go to sleep, Sookie," she admonished.

She slept.

…

…

"What do you mean, 'Mr. Northman is in the infirmary?'" Sookie frowned at the corrections officer.

The woman huffed, irritated that she had to explain herself. "I mean exactly what I said, Dr. Stackhouse. He can't finish the rest of your eval today because he's in the infirmary."

Sookie shook her head. "He seemed perfectly healthy yesterday…" Her voice trailed as she looked at the officer, who was smirking at her.

"What?" Sookie felt annoyed at her obvious amusement, at her expense.

"Well, he's sick now. He's in there 'cause he got jumped. I told you that's what happens to child killers. Prison code."

Sookie turned and without another word walked straight out of the building back to her car. She put her testing kit and briefcase in the trunk and sat in the driver's seat. She felt stunned. It was so…strange. He had seemed so healthy and full of life, despite his obvious distress and dismay at his situation.

She pondered the officer's words, perplexed. His height and musculature alone would make him a formidable opponent. She also remembered reading somewhere online that he was a black belt in mixed martial arts, so she suspected he had been attacked by more than one man. But he was in Ad Seg, essentially in solitary confinement. The only way he could have been "jumped" would have been through the deliberate inaction of the guards. Something wasn't right…Her "spider sense" was tingling. She had a hunch that it wasn't just "prison justice" at play…

Although she knew it unorthodox and potentially could jeopardize her standing as an "impartial" evaluator, she couldn't help herself….there was something about Eric Northman that had struck a chord with her. She swallowed thickly, remembering her dream earlier that morning.

She started the SUV and drove around to the other side of the correctional complex, where the new, self-contained jail hospital was located. She showed the guard her i.d. and explained she was visiting a client. He stared at her for a few seconds when she revealed which inmate she was visiting but then silently handed her license to her and waved her in.

She received similar treatment when she entered the infirmary, but the officer handed her a visitor badge nonetheless and informed her where he was located. When she got to his room, she noticed a guard standing outside. He stopped her.

"Sorry, ma'am. Only one visitor at a time allowed in the room."

Sookie frowned. "Okay. Um, do you mind me asking who is visiting with him?"

He shrugged. "His attorney. Supposedly." He rolled his eyes, conveying his disinterest in the subject.

"Oh. Well, that's good. I needed to talk to her anyways. Would you mind telling her that Dr. Stackhouse is outside the room?"

"Yeah, I guess." He turned and ducked in the room. "Dr. Stackhouse wants to talk to ya'." After relaying his message, he returned to his post, an expression of total boredom on his face.

Sookie only had to wait a few seconds before the attorney came out of the room, softly closing the door. Pamela Ravenscroft was probably a little shorter than her, but with her four-inch heels, stood slightly taller than her since Sookie tended to wear flats or low heels when working (her feet and back always hurt by the end of the day when she wore heels higher than two inches). Her pale blonde hair was swept up into a chignon and lavender skirt suit was impeccable and set off by a strand of pearls at her neck. Despite her well-coiffed, junior league appearance her eyes burned with a frightening intensity. To say she looked pissed was an understatement.

Pam sneered at her, unable to suppress her anger. "Dr. Stackhouse. What a surprise. I suspect you won't be able to finish your evaluation of my client today. Or tomorrow for that matter, so you might as well turn right back around since you are wasting your time. I will be in touch with Stan Davis, who will let you know when he's healthy enough to complete the assessment."

Sookie blinked. Shit. How could she explain that she was there for an informal visit without jeopardizing her role in the case? Her mind raced.

"Ms. Ravenscroft, I am aware that your client is ill. I was just going to check on him briefly. You know, his medical issues could impact his psychological status…" Her voice trailed as she realized how lame her excuse sounded.

Pam's expression thawed. She no longer appeared pissed. She looked…curious.

"Hmm. Here in a non-professional capacity? That doesn't sound like something you'd do, Dr. Stackhouse. Is there another reason-"

"No, no," Sookie hurriedly interrupted. "I…I, well…" She stopped and blew out a breath, deciding to tell the attorney the truth. "I just think this is weird as hell. He was completely healthy, nothing wrong with him yesterday. And now today, I'm told he's sick and there may be evidence that he was assaulted. I guess I wanted to see for myself…"

Pam's eyes flashed in anger, but Sookie realized she wasn't angry with her. She was furious about what had happened to her client.

Pam pulled Sookie by the arm, leading her further down the hall and away from the guard, who didn't pay them the slightest bit of attention.

Pam spoke low, under her breath. "You bet your sweet ass this is "weird as hell." It looks like he was attacked early this morning, before dawn. And the guard logs indicate he was checked on every two hours, as per policy. But the video footage mysteriously shows snow during a two-hour window when he was unsupervised, from about 3 to 5am. He was discovered unconscious on the floor of his cell, face down. He has bruises on his face, neck, upper body, arms…they had to transfuse him several pints of blood due to blood loss."

Sookie inhaled sharply. "My God…what the hell happened?"

Pam laughed bitterly. "Someone or several someones got to him, simple as that. I'm fucking furious that the tape is blacked out. Without that I am limited in what I can do in terms of hanging specific individuals by their nutsacks, but I am petitioning to have him moved to a different facility after he recovers. I'm also going to file a suit against-"

"Can I see him?" Sookie blurted out.

Pam raised a well-manicured eyebrow. "Why? I just told you what happened…and he's still out of it. They have him heavily medicated, and thank God there was no swelling in his brain. He does have a mild concussion, though. He's not going to know you're there. You'd be wasting your time."

Sookie laughed weakly. "Well, since I'm here, I thought I might just look in on him for a second and then I'll head on out."

Pam nodded her head slowly, shrewdly guessing that the psychologist may just have a non-professional interest in Eric Northman. Hell, if she wasn't a lesbian, she would have too. The man was gorgeous.

"All right, Dr. Stackhouse. I'll wait outside the door while you visit "for a second."

Sookie blushed and nodded her head. She headed back towards the room as the guard turned and opened the door for her.

The room was Spartan, holding two hospital beds that could be partitioned off by a curtain in the middle. The other bed was vacant, however.

Eric had an IV hooked to him, as well as blood pressure monitor. He was pale, his former healthy skin tone ashen. His handsome face was badly bruised, as was his neck. It looked as if he had been choked. She couldn't see the rest of his body since he was covered by a sheet and hospital gown.

She felt shocked. He must have been beaten severely…and why the hell wasn't he in a real hospital? He looked bad off enough to be in an ICU. Did he not need surgery for internal bleeding? If he had that much blood loss, you would think there would have been internal damage. She had more questions than answers. Her sixth sense was screaming at her. In addition to the assault, something was off…something wasn't right here, but she didn't know what exactly or how to go about finding out.

She stepped up to the side of his bed. Despite his pallor and bruising, he was still beautiful. She tentatively reached out a shaky hand and brushed his hair back from his forehead. His dark blond hair was still streaked with blood although it looked like there had been an attempt to clean him.

She bent down and whispered to him, "I'm going to help find out what happened. You stay strong, Eric."

She straightened up and walked out of the room. Pam was waiting at the door. Her expression softened as she looked Sookie up and down, noticing how shaken she appeared.

"Well, doc, any insights?"

Sookie motioned with her head for Pam to follow her back to their previous spot.

"Something is off…it doesn't feel right to me."

Pam frowned. "What do you mean, "doesn't feel right"? Of course it doesn't, he had the shit beaten out of him."

"No. Not that. I mean I think someone is trying to send him and us a message."

"What message?'

"To back off. To stay quiet. To watch our step…I just don't buy that this is simple "prison justice."

Sookie looked Pam in the eye. "Please keep me posted as to his recovery, Ms. Ravenscroft. You have my contact information."

Pam nodded, narrowing her eyes as she appraised her with sharp interest.

She continued staring thoughtfully as Sookie turned and quickly walked away.

…

…

_Review if you like. _


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